


Upward Spiral

by WithoutAQualmOfConscience



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Multi, Trans Male Character, singular they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:30:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithoutAQualmOfConscience/pseuds/WithoutAQualmOfConscience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three ficlets about former smuggler Levi and his favorite losers. (Featuring casual trans Levi and gender-neutral pronouns Hanji and lots of cuddling.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upward Spiral

Levi occasionally thinks, in passing, and usually while cleaning, about the sterile floors of the Genoa, about the bright white lights and cool, ventilated air. There was comfort on the starship; a certainty that if things went wrong in any way, everything would be over, a nasty finish of darkness and hot blood, leaving only a pale grey corpse floating through the sea of space. Things aren’t so different outside of Wall Rose, he tells himself. A body’d just leave slightly less of a solid behind.

When he was smuggling, bringing canisters in and out of the planet, the rest of the crew would laugh at the locals. Dumbass plebes and luddites and zealots, couldn’t even handle phasers. Didn’t they know that there were vaporizing rifles in existence now? The future was here. Colonies didn’t have to live in fear from anything but other colonies and bad weather. And yet. And yet three of the crew was eaten trying to haul out a frightened collection of locals. And yet the sharp-eyed, calm-faced man in brown was mostly annoyed that the criminals had “been an impediment to the full implementation of the strategy.” And yet the flesh-melting bullets were useless against the monsters whose flesh was an illusion.

The refugees would bring their weapons, sometimes, on the ship with them. Their blades were sharp, their harnesses left dark purple bruises on their skin, their gas-canisters could be easily filled with contraband. They didn’t speak and after the first encounter, Levi understood why. He donned their uniforms in his quarters and squared off with himself, turned the gravity off for his sector. In mid-air, the cool, clean air of the Genoa, he pulled the swords from their holsters and tested their weight in his hands, thinking of the eyes of the commander on Titan— a blue he had not seen since Earth.

 

\---

 

Hanji sleeps on their back, their hands twitching, strong wrists knotted with use. Erwin, on watch, observes their long fingers frantically sweeping in front of Levi’s face. When the crew acquired Hanji, found bloody amidst a steaming corpse before the fall of Wall Rose, claiming to be from Earth, it was impossible to tell if they were a real soldier or just a madman with some maneuver gear. 

“I have training, I swear!” they had said cheerfully, carving a deep gash into the skull of the monster. “I have a formal education in biology. I was in the 96th Trainee Squad.”

“And where is the rest of your unit?” Erwin asked.

Hanji just pointed to the steaming corpse and the. “There were only three of us. Against a 13 meter class. Not impossible, but not good odds.”

“Three to one,” Levi had said, unimpressed.

“Yes!” Hanji had agreed, nodding a blood-soaked head and pulling their glasses back. “We had a thirty-three percent chance of survival. And here I am!”

“That’s not how odds work,” Petra had said gently.

“What are you, anyway?” Auruo asked, narrowing his eyes.

“A scientist!” Hanji had replied, stepping away from their weapons and extending their long, gore-stained hand. “Hanji Zoe, nice to meet you.”

“But are you a woman or…?”

“I am sixty-five percent water.”

That was the end of that. And now Hanji has stirred into a kind of half-wakeness and wraps their arms around Levi, who jerks awake and mumbles, “Stop that, no” before rolling half away, though not far enough to escape their grasp.

 

\---

 

“You need to be careful,” Erwin says, running his fingers over the small series of burns on Levi’s back. “The maneuver gear has dislocated people’s shoulders before.”

“It’s fine,” Levi snaps, grabbing his shirt from the chair beside the bed. “Besides, I think you’d rather I dislocated something and got eaten. You wouldn’t have to expend time worrying.”

Erwin doesn’t laugh. Levi isn’t sure if Erwin ever laughs. “True,” he says, which is disconcerting without so much as a smile to ensure levity. “But you’re here, and so I worry. It’s the natural progression.”

“Thanks,” Levi mutters, reflecting that this might have been a conversation to have before sex. Preferably in a context not related to sex at all.

Hanji rolls over, kisses three of Levi’s vertebrae and says, “He’s right, though, you have to be careful. Especially not to rip open your old scars.”

“They’re not going to rip open,” Levi sighs, “It’s been twelve years since the surgery.”

“Scar tissue is always weaker than original tissue,” Hanji says, “I know, because science.”

“Science, Levi,” Erwin repeats seriously.

“Losers,” Levi mumbles, looking away so he won’t grin, buttoning his shirt. Erwin gently pulls him back by the collar and pulls him into the middle of the bed where Hanji quickly attaches themself to both Levi’s waist and the corner of Erwin’s shirt with their long arms and strong hands.

“Your favorite losers,” Hanji says, and Levi has no retort.


End file.
